Review: Maha Sohona ‘A Dark Place’
According to Sinhalese folklore, the name Maha Sohona means ‘great graveyard demon’ and is one of the most feared in Sri Lanka. Quite how that relates to the Swedish psych explorers from Umeå, other than sounding cool as fuck, I couldn’t say, but they have lately become an act that has regularly made it onto rotation for me.
Whilst covering this year’s Desertfest London, the trio occupied a space on the Saturday afternoon which was selected by the scientific process of skipping through clips on YouTube, and these guys were the best of the bunch on offer. Not the most glowing review I appreciate.
Their afternoon slot in The Underworld not only proved to be a rare venture outside of their native land, but my initial blasé attitude was soon banished. They played a mixture of material from their 2014 self-titled debut and their 2021 return from hiatus Endless Searcher. In a tight set they delivered an experimental sound that combined the stoner crunch of Kyuss with the more expansive progression of the likes of Eldar and Tool.
This crossover of influences sees Maha Sohona blending space rock, hypnotic grooves, melody and a hard, grungy edge that has seen the name of Alice In Chains thrown in for good measure. I walked away from the festival determined to become more familiar with them and jumped at the opportunity to grab their latest album, A Dark Place, to review.
The fifty-minute opus begins with the briefest of whirring effects as the band drop us into the low, smoky intro to Liquid Motion Medicine. The majority of the numbers on their third album feature weighty run times, only Uddh is under five minutes, with most straining towards ten. This gives Maha Sohona the space to explore length prog jams that build and flex to create the encapsulating atmosphere.
As the opening number lumbers into life, it picks out a number of motifs – part Stoner Rock, part grunge with ringing bass notes walking through the effect-heavy mists. This drawn-out beginning morphs into a harder-edged crunch with a huge rolling riff and serious pedal abuse. Over the crashing sounds of the rhythm section, singer/guitarist Johan Bernhardsten intones in an ominous, menacing style that draws Layne Stayley comparisons with the multi-layered vocals.
The beautifully elastic sounds and harmonies turn into a faster-paced, assertive groove with more emphasis on the pounding drums and an off-kilter, swaying solo as Liquid Motion Medicine explores textures and tempos throughout its sprawling statement of ambition.
Visionsmight be one of the best tracks I have heard all year, not just in the proggy stoner corner of the genre. The bright, picked notes of the initial start remind me of the cerebral stylings of Tool and the low build dynamic that the Californians have become known for. The warmth of Thomas Hedlund’s bass is enveloping as it swells over the tapped rhythms of Erik Andersson. Johan’s voice is little more than a whispering, breathy invitation that soothes as this extended exploration gives off heady vibes with the dream-like singing and hypnotic dance, the music leads you on.
The hazy, jam‑like riffing and the crashing wash of fuzzed‑out notes hammer down like a breaking tsunami…
Halfway through, when these mesmerising passages give way to distorted guitar and the full force of the bass and drums, the vocals soar, and the emotions cut deep with the straining passion. Over more Tool influenced churning breakdowns, Maha Sohona plead and writhes with beautiful melancholia as they head to the heady rush of the climax, having dished out superb fret work and dazzling solos.
Shortest number Uddh is a soothing, light lament that is gentle and soulful after the bombastic ending of the previous track. It almost feels throwaway due to being bookended between two heavyweight pieces, but provides gentle relief amongst the more demanding compositions.
The rich, indulgent groove of Voyagers comes across with the confidence of prime Sky Valley era Kyuss. The hazy, jam‑like riffing and the crashing wash of fuzzed‑out notes hammer down like a breaking tsunami. They immediately transport you to late‑night bong hits and an otherworldly feeling of surrender to the smoky hedonism it invokes. It might not be the most groundbreaking piece of music, but it is incredibly well done with a swagger and panache that few acts have captured recently.
Ostera has a sumptuous southern bluesy feel, which starts from the drawn-out guitar, boosted by the reverberating deep bass drops. The drifting sway is introspective and melodic as they bring down the mood to something that almost approaches a ballad.
Not quite as gripping as some of the previous numbers, the opening half has sparse vocals that feel more impactful for their absence and lowers the temperature before the crunch of the harder portion of the song. Featuring vibrato plucking and a gritty wall of sound, the band let their instruments do the talking before returning to the softer, comforting, lighter motif.
Saving the most ambitious piece for last, the band return to the opening format for the beginning of The Long Way Home, the jangling guitar calling back as they begin the darker, more brooding number. The sombre, mournful pace and singing is broken by hopeful yearning that almost adds a layer of desperation to the feeling of intensity. When the band crashes in with the dramatic final third, it makes all the more impact, proving all good things come to those who wait as they head towards the ringing, stirring ending.
A Dark Place is undoubtedly the band’s most indulgent, heaviest and best release. Maha Sohona create their own universe where they can take their time and explore whatever they want. If you are not a fan of experimental, psych jams, then this isn’t going to be for you. But if you are a fan of spaced‑out, emotionally stirring trips like me, you could find it elbowing its way into your top albums of the year.
Label: Bonebag Records
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
